


Robin Laid an Egg

by enigma731



Series: The 12 Days of Chris Muss [10]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Baby Groot (Marvel), Christmas Caroling, Domestic Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 16:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13011231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigma731/pseuds/enigma731
Summary: “Quill!” says Drax, as Peter comes into the galley with the last set of dirty dishes from dinner. “Tell us more of your Chris Muss traditions!”“Um.” Peter thinks for a moment. “Well...There were special songs that we would sing for it. They were called Christmas carols.”Drax nods. “You sang the ballad of the sacred birth of Santa?”





	Robin Laid an Egg

**Author's Note:**

> A companion ficlet to [Santa Baby](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12920934). You should probably read that one first if you haven't.

“Quill!” says Drax, as Peter comes into the galley with the last set of dirty dishes from dinner. “Tell us more of your Chris Muss traditions!”

“Christmas,” Peter corrects, setting the dishes in the sink and rolling up his sleeves.

Cleaning up after dinner has become a part of their routine too, which is a surprisingly pleasant change over his prior habit of leaving dirty dishes around until things started growing on them. Now they have a system that almost resembles an assembly line -- Gamora soaps the dishes up and scrubs them (because that’s the only way they actually get _clean_ , according to her), then hands them to Peter to rinse, and he finishes up by passing them along to Rocket to dry. Meanwhile, Drax sits by the stove, sharpening the knives he’s just used to prepare dinner, as he does every night. Groot, for his part, balances on the edge of the sink, chasing the occasional soap bubble and sometimes sticking a vine into the water to splash people as they work.

“Yes,” says Drax, as Peter takes the first bowl from Gamora, watching as the soap foams under the water. “Tell us more!”

“Um.” Peter thinks for a moment, turning the bowl over to rinse the bottom of it. “Well...There were special songs that we would sing for it. They were called Christmas carols.”

Drax nods. “You sang the ballad of the sacred birth of Santa?”

“Some of them did,” Peter agrees, passing the bowl to Rocket and taking another from Gamora. He can smell the sweetness of her hair and the leather of her jacket from this distance, which is probably at least tangentially related to the fact that he no longer hates this chore. “Others were just about the Christmas spirit. You know, celebrating with the people you love.”

“Sing one for us,” Gamora suggests, giving him a little smile as she passes another dish into his side of the sink.

Peter flushes, and his mind immediately goes blank. Part of it is the fact that it’s been literal decades since he last _heard_ a Christmas carol, unlike the songs on his Walkman. Part of it is also the fact that he had far less exposure to them, only once a year. But really, the biggest problem that he’s having is the way Gamora’s looking at him right now.

“Uh--Jingle bells,” he sings tentatively, but can’t quite get the next few words out. He clears his throat, and tries again. “Jingle bells--Gimme a minute.”

Shaking his head, Peter hands more dishes off to Rocket, and takes a deep breath. For once, they’re all quiet, allowing him to think.

When he starts singing again, he lets the words come instinctively, without thinking about what he’s saying at all. “Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg! Batmobile lost a wheel and the joker got away, hey!”

Drax blinks. “Hey what?”

Peter sighs, shaking his head. “That’s just--the end of the verse. Like I’m yelling ‘hey’ because I’m happy. Or something.” Actually, come to think of it, he’s not really sure if those are the right words. Then again, he has absolutely no way to check, so he’s just gonna go with it.

“What does it mean?” asks Gamora, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“Well,” says Peter, “Jingle bells were like...a kind of musical instrument people would play when they celebrated Christmas. Batman was a guy in the movies and on TV. He could turn into a bat to fight crime.”

“Bullshit,” says Rocket, joining this conversation for the first time. “Humies can’t shapeshift.”

“Well, no,” Peter agrees. “He was a fictional character. Like I said, movies and TV. And Robin was a guy who was like--” He pauses, thinking that everybody in this room will probably object to the term ‘sidekick.’ “He was Batman’s friend. Who supported him in fighting the evil Joker.”

“Was Robin also Terran?” asks Gamora, who’s momentarily stopped scrubbing dishes in order to better contemplate the mysteries of this song. “How did he lay an egg?”

Peter sighs. “It’s a joke, because Robin was his name, and he was a person--a Terran person--but it’s also the name of a kind of bird on Earth. And also, like I said, the whole thing was fictional.”

“It is odd for a celebratory song,” says Drax. “Is it not about the villain escaping? And why would one sing it in celebration of Chris Muss?”

“It’s just--It’s just a stupid song!” Peter insists, his heartrate increasing, a familiar knot forming in his stomach as he tries to think through it. They must not be the right lyrics, or if they are, he must not remember the context in which they fit. The others clearly don’t get it, are about to mock him for it as the Ravagers always did when he got wrapped up in half-remembered nostalgia from Earth. He’s about to open his mouth again, to tell them to just forget about it, that it was a mistake to share, when--

“I like it!” Drax proclaims, loud enough to make everyone jump. “It is an excellent song!” He begins to hum under his breath as he finishes cleaning the knives for the night.

“Thank you for sharing it,” Gamora agrees, and bumps him lightly with her shoulder as she continues with the dishes.

Groot, apparently bored now that story time is over, squeals loudly and promptly jumps into the pot she’s been filling with soapy water.


End file.
